


Rarity of Truth

by armsoftheocean



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M, Pemberley arc, elizabeth/darcy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armsoftheocean/pseuds/armsoftheocean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I was wrong," she admits, her eyes downcast, a half smile playing at her lips. "Charlotte and my sisters always did say I see what I want to see."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rarity of Truth

the cold evening aches / as it leaves in its wake / all the memories left by the day

  
_-Haunt,_ Bastilles

* * *

He slams a fist down his mahogany desktop, willing for the image of her to leave his mind. A stinging pain travels up his arm, coiling around his tense muscles, up to his shoulders, and dulling away in a bright white throb. But it feels good. The sense that she is there, and everything is  _real_ , and maybe they have a chance.

His heart pounds, and he remembers, remembers down to the last detail, how he had ran into her earlier that morning.

/

' _Lizzie?' his eyes widen in shock as they connect with her bright blue, cutting into his very core. There's a flash of red as she spins on her heels, and quickly turns a corner into the main lobby. He clumsily closes the file he had been skimming through, and turns the same corner, to see her pushing down furiously on the elevator button._

_Will clears his throat. "Hi."_

" _Hi."_

" _Hi," he says again, drinking her in after what seemed to have felt like a lifetime. Her hair is pulled up in an elaborate bun, and she's wearing a sapphire blue shirt that makes her eyes look brighter. A slim pencil skirt, and a pair of heels that make her seem taller than usual, and he doesn't feel as if he is awkwardly towering over her that much anymore._

_There is a pause, and then Lizzie speaks._

" _I'm so sorry, Darcy. I was – I didn't know that you would be here," she says, words spilling out rapidly, with no signs of stopping. "I thought you were going to be in LA, and I really did need to finish my independent study and I'm just_ so  _sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," she rambles, twisting her fingers nervously, her heart beating frantically inside her chest, as if it would jump out of her throat any minute. She breathes in deeply, her head spinning as his clean, citrus-y smell clouded her brain._

_Will hesitates, and lifts his arm, gently pulling her out of the hustle of the main lobby, and into a small alcove._

" _I – it's okay. I'm glad you're here – I know you will be able to learn a lot here. I hope, I mean," he says._

" _I shouldn't have come," she whispers, her eyes widening._

" _No!" he says vehemently, shaking his head. "Please – please don't let anything I've done – or whatever my, well, feelings, may be, preventing you from completing your work here."_

_Lizzie pauses, glancing up at him slightly, silently thanking Charlotte who had encouraged her that morning to wear the three inch heels. It'd look more professional, she had said._

" _I – thank you. It's a lovely company," she says, smiling slightly, the panic dying down._

" _You think so?" he said, a grin taking over his face, a warmth spilling through his chest._

 _Lizzie nods eagerly in response before continuing, "Are you kidding me?! The technology here is absolutely amazing! People were using things I doubt I could even pronounce. And there's a_ Japanese Garden  _for god's sake! And a pool!"_

_Will smiles – an honest to god smile, with dimples and everything – and Lizzie's breath catches in her throat, a strange fluttery feeling settling in the pit of her stomach._

_She stutters out a sentence, still mesmerized by how his face contorts quite nicely. "I think I lost my tour group."_

_He reaches out hesitantly, before wrapping his hand loosely around her forearm, "I think I know this place relatively well. I can show you around a lot better than most people. Maybe even some of our secret spots here as well," he says, shooting her another conspiratorial smile. Lizzie smiles back nervously, still astounded by how, well, nice_ ,  _William Darcy is being._

_/_

A knock sounds at Lizzie's temporary office. "Come in!" she responds, dropping a pile of her notes into a manila file and into the desk drawer.

Will appears at the door, and her lips twitch up in an ironic smile, remembering how he had entered the exact same way when she had been at Collins & Collins.

"So," he says, tugging at his dark blue bowtie.

She shoots him a sardonic smile, motioning for him to actually  _enter_ the office, rather than hover awkwardly in the door frame, which is something he'd made a habit of doing over the past month.

"Almost done your placement here?" he asks. Frowning slightly, she picks up a paperclip, unbending the cool piece of metal, and twisting it back into a knot.

"Yeah," she says softly, a pang resounding in her chest. She had been at Pemberley Digital for a month, and her placement had been cut short due to a mess Lydia had gotten herself into, and was flying out the next morning. "I wish I could stay longer… but you heard the phone call when Jane called me," she muses, more to herself than him.

Will's eyes widen slightly in shock, a smile threatening to break out of his otherwise neutral mask.

"Can I help? With your sister, I mean. Gigi… she went through the same thing with Wickham," he says, a dark cloud setting over his features as he mentioned George Wickham's name.

"No – please, it's okay. Lydia… well, you've met her. She's tough. She'll be okay," she whispers, reassuring herself. Smiling brightly, she turns back towards him.

"Anyways, I really do wish I could have stayed longer to complete my placement properly," she says.

"You do?" he questions, hovering a bit closer to Lizzie's desk. She nods enthusiastically, her otherwise forlorn expression melting away.

"The absolute truth? I _love_  it here. I really do, Will," she says earnestly.

His lips twitch slightly as she calls him by his first name now – no longer Darcy, or Darcybot, or even  _Dubstep DJ_  – but by his first  _name_. It had to signify  _something,_ right? Or so he tells himself, feeding the hope that had been growing in his chest ever since she had shown up at his company.

"It's an amazing company… and I – well," she laughs, her cheeks flushing. "I didn't exactly think you of all people would be running a company that's well, considerate, of everyone's needs." She shoots him an apologetic smile, before pushing herself out of her chair.

"And… and I'm  _really_ sorry for misjudging you. To be honest, before actually showing up here, I thought it was just another corporate machine type of company. But I was wrong, and I... I was... just so  _wrong,_ " she tries to put into words how sorry she is, and how wrong she was, and how much she regrets turning him down so coldly.

"Please – please, Lizzie, don't apologize," he says, moving towards her, slightly agitated. Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he wrings his fingers together, trying to formulate his thoughts into words. "I was, as you've put it before, a douche bag," he says with a slight smirk.

Lizzie's mouth gapes open a bit, still not used to a William Darcy who wasn't uptight, but someone who could actually  _joke around._

"And it is my fault – I shouldn't have been so stand offish to everyone when we first met. You didn't misjudge me, you judged the person you saw. And frankly, I don't think I had shown you my best side several months ago," Will lets out a breath he hadn't realised that he had been holding in, relieved.

"I was wrong," she admits, her eyes downcast, a half smile playing at her lips. "Charlotte and my sisters always did say I see what I want to see."

Will lets out a short bark of laughter, "we're similar in that aspect then, I suppose."

"Similar, eh? Me and you. Who would've thought," she replies, a teasing glint lurking in the depths of her eyes.

A short pause. Neither of the two say anything, and simply stare at each other – studying, analysing.

"I really am sorry," she repeats, breaking the silence.

"I think I'm the one who needs to be sorry," he says, his bright blue eyes probing into hers. She looks away, her neck flushing slightly because of the intensity.

He doesn't realise it, but he's inched closer and closer to her, almost as if it was a magnetic pull. She's not wearing heels today, he notes. He's towering over her again.

She leans in slightly, her heart hammering faster inside her chest. Her cheeks flush brighter at the close proximity, and she decides something in a split second.

"I think I like you, William Darcy," she says, her voice low and timid.

Those seven words made his insides flip, and his cheeks flushed red at his reaction, wondering what Gigi would have had to say about his school girl response. His heart threatens to burst from his chest, and a grin breaks out across his face.

He closes the small amount of space between the two of them, and lifts a hand, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

Lizzie's eyes flutter slightly at just how  _close_ he was, and the fact she could practically taste his aftershave. The citrus smell clouded her head, making her feel dizzy and euphoric.

"You're short," he says before wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up onto the edge of the desk.

She lets out a yelp at the unexpected gesture, before laughing. "Not all of us can be inhumanely tall, you know," she teases. He's no longer towering over her as he was before, but she still tilts her head back slightly to look into his eyes.

"Much better," he murmurs, leaning his forehead against hers. They stay like that for a minute, before Lizzie breaks the silence.

"As much as I love teasing people, are you going to cut the crap and kiss me or am I go–" the rest of her sentence is muffled by a pair of lips setting down on hers. Her heart rate spikes up even higher, and the blood in her body rushes to the surface of her skin.

Her hands, which had previously been resting on his chest, curl around his neck and into his soft hair. His arms slink around her waist, and pull her in even closer, before his fingers slip up the edges of her top, and press against her flushed skin, leaving a burning trail with his fingers.

He lets out a deep groan, as Lizzie begins peppering small kisses against his jawline, wrapping her legs firmly around his waist, leaning in further.

A twisting doorknob and the a familiar, hyperactive voice breaks them out of their reverie. "Hey, Lizzie B! Let's grab some lun–"

Will twists his head, hastily pulling his hands out from underneath Lizzie's shirt, attempting to untangle himself from Lizzie.

"Oh god," she groans, her head falling into the crevice of Will's neck.

"I – what?! You two!  _When?!"_ exclaims Fitz, whipping out his iPhone and snapping a picture quickly. "Oh, god, Gigi isn't going to believe this!" The familiar  _whoosh_ sound of a tweet being sent echoed in the empty office.

"Please tell me you didn't just tweet that to several thousand people, Fitz," she groans, her voice muffled by Will's neck. Lifting her head, she glares at Fitz, who shoots the two of them a smirk.

She hops off the desk, but instead of backing away from Will, she curls herself into his side. Will smiles down at her, his heart elated over the fact she wasn't pushing him away.

"I owe Gigi fifty bucks, by the way. If you two had kept your hormones in check for another three days, that money would have been mine," Fitz groans.

The two of them ignore him.

"You're kidding me! Gigi and I totally got you two together, and you're here,  _ignoring_ me?!" he huffs out. "Unbelievable. You should be more grateful to me!"

"Because you were such a great wingman, right Fitz?" Will says, grinning.

"Hey – I did my best! Not my fault you didn't tell me more," Fitz replies with a scoff. "Whatever. I'm going to find Gigi," he sniffs, before walking out of the office, shutting the door behind him.

"Do you… do you think you'll come back? Here? To San Francisco?" he asks.

"Possibly," she says, arching an eyebrow teasingly. "I'm not one hundred percent positive I like you, though. Still on the  _thinking_ side."

"Oh really?" he says, his mouth twisting in a half smile.

She nods. "I'm going to need something to prove to me I  _know,_ that I like you – rather than thinking of course. It's always better to know something for sure, don't you agree?"

"I think I could help with that," he says, another wide grin taking over his features.

"Your face contorts very nicely, by the way," she says, before pressing her lips against his. He smiles wider against her lips, and murmurs, "you're kind of short. But I think I can deal with that."


End file.
